I grabbed my glasses and ran outside. I could hear them before I knew what I was looking for.
My heart leapt.
They came across the Bozman marsh, in a V heading due north. Maybe 3 dozen, flying together – just now.
Tundra swans on their way out.
You could feel their intention, their definite decisive direction.
We flew with them as they swooped our end of the cove.